


Pieces They Can't Take of Us

by stephaniereads



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky likes 80's movies, Kind of a slow burn, M/M, Pining, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam is Sam, Steve and Bucky are a mess, some sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 00:03:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14705317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephaniereads/pseuds/stephaniereads
Summary: “It must get obvious enough that I’m not ever gonna change,It must get obvious enough that I’m the one who stays.”





	Pieces They Can't Take of Us

**Author's Note:**

> This is me experimenting with Steve/Bucky. There is a lot of Softness so be ready.  
> Any/all mistakes are mine so please excuse and accept my apology for it in advance.
> 
> Title from "The Bluest Things on Earth" and description from "It Must Get Lonely", both by The Wonder Years.

~

Steve thinks about the helicarrier every day.

He thinks of it in waves of anger towards Hydra, sadness when he remembers Bucky’s blank expression, fear when he imagines how it all could have gone. Sometimes the waves come all at once or step by step, knocking him over and letting him drown in the tide with little room to breathe in between.

Then the last wave hits. Happiness, relief, because Bucky was in there, Steve knew it in his heart and the proof was there when he woke up and found out he’d been left on the bank of the Potomac by the Winter Soldier.

“Bucky,” he’d corrected his friends. “Bucky saved me.”

Bucky always saved him. Bucky was always there and Steve can think of one too many times he wasn’t. That’s why he’s still looking. That’s why he can’t give up even if there’s a little voice in his mind telling him Bucky doesn’t want to be found. 

~

Steve finds himself on the Coney Island boardwalk even if it’s a little late in the season. He likes the chill he feels in the air, the salty smell, the sights and sounds that take him back to a time before the war, before the serum. 

Steve observes his surroundings. It’s so different from when he was young, but he can see his memories as clear as if they were playing on a screen in front of him. He can match where he and Bucky stood licking ice cream cones that dripped and made their fingers stucky, he can feel the queasiness in his stomach from that time Bucky forced him to ride the roller coaster.

The color of the ocean way out on the horizon always reminded Steve of Bucky’s eyes. Cool grey-blue with the same depth.

Steve’s not quite ready to go home and something in him wants to walk, just be for a while. It’s not quite his old stomping grounds, but it’s close enough. He’s not sure he has it in him to revisit exactly where he grew up anyway. 

It’s a short while before Steve realizes that he’s not even paying attention to where he’s going. He kicks at the ground, digs his hands into his pockets. He looks up and the sun is sinking, the warm pinks in the sky being replaced by a deep blue. Something moves in his peripheral vision and he flicks his gaze to the source.

A man on the roof. Steve thinks nothing of it until the man jumps to the next one effortlessly and lands just so. 

“Bucky,” Steve breathes.

Then he takes off.

~

He sprints up the stairs of a walk up, crashes through the door a few seconds late. He’s not sure if Bucky’s running to or from something and Bucky must know by now he’s being followed.

Steve stops on one roof as Bucky jumps to a lower surface. Bucky looks around quickly before he moves to the next roof and sneaks inside through the stairwell. Steve follows him down and immediately observes that the building is abandoned. He passes graffiti tagged walls and cracked surfaces, must look in every door for six floors without finding anything.

The floor creaks under Steve’s boots and he makes an effort to take lighter steps. Just as Steve almost calls out Bucky’s name, he pushes a door open and freezes. There’s a mattress on the floor, a candle next to it, a notebook on top of a folded blanket.

Steve looks around sadly. He takes another step inside and doesn’t hear the creak of the floorboards, doesn’t even hear Bucky take a breath, but Steve can sense he’s not alone anymore.

“Hey, Buck. You remember me?”

Steve puts his hands in the air and turns around. He feels the breath get knocked out of him when he sees Bucky up close. It’s really him. 

“You’re Steve.”

Bucky’s voice is surprisingly soft, still a little rough around the edges like it always was. It warms Steve to his core to hear it.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Steve Rogers,” Bucky confirms. “From the bridge and the helicarrier,” Bucky says, voice low. “From before.”

Steve could cry. Bucky knows him. Bucky’s here, Steve found him, and in Brooklyn of all damn places. Steve takes a step closer and when Bucky doesn’t move or try to run, he takes another. He wraps his arm over Bucky’s shoulder and pulls him in and it takes a second, but Steve feels Bucky’s arms snake around him, their hands pressed to each other’s backs.

When they separate, Steve keeps his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and squeezes a little even though Bucky flinches a little. 

“How are you holding up?”

“Well I’ve got this place and now you’re here, so I guess I’m not doing so bad.”

Steve sniffs a breath that’s meant to be a laugh and shakes his head. “C’mon, Buck.”

Bucky’s expression falls and something flickers through his eyes. Pain, maybe. Sadness. 

“It’s been hard. All these memories. They come back in flashes and in dreams and nightmares- it’s been hard,” he repeats. “But it’s so good to see you, Steve.”

Steve pulls Bucky back in and Bucky’s arms tighten around him again, harder this time. Steve feels the weight of Bucky’s pain in how hard he hugs Steve, in the breath that comes out involuntarily and warms the skin on Steve’s neck.

“I’ve got you, Bucky.”

“You always did, huh?”

“I don’t think so,” Steve says with a gentle smile. “You always had me.”

“We had each other,” Bucky corrects him.

Steve nods. “Still do.”

~

It’s been nearly two years since the incident on the helicarrier. Before that and the previous events in DC, Steve thought Bucky was nothing but a memory, a person he’d carry in his heart for the rest of his unnatural life. And even before all that, Bucky was Steve’s right hand, Steve was Bucky’s best friend, heart, and soul. 

Part of this, of them, feels like nothing has changed over the decades they’ve been apart. The other parts feel like everything has. 

“I’m sorry for almost killing you.”

“Wasn’t really you, Bucky.”

“I’m still sorry. I should know better to apologize though, shouldn’t I? You’re always doing something stupid. Too brave, always damn near close to getting yourself killed.”

“Thanks a lot.”

They’re both smiling.

“It’s true. You never knew when to walk away from a fight.”

“And you did?”

“Not the point.”

“Yeah, yeah, Barnes.” 

Steve shoves his shoulder against Bucky’s and Bucky winces a little at the contact before he leans in towards Steve. Steve notes how Bucky flinches at first. He’s not sure he wants to delve into the possibilities of what that meant.

Instead he says, “I’m not gonna hurt you, Bucky. I would never hurt you.”

“I know,” Bucky replies sadly. 

“I know it’s gonna take time to trust anyone again, but I want you to know that I’ll be patient. You can trust me.”

“I already do, I just- I gotta shake what they did to me.”

Steve nods. “So this is where you stay, huh?” he asks to change the subject.

“It’s the best I could do,” Bucky shrugs.

Steve knows he shouldn’t do this, but like Bucky said, he doesn’t know when to walk away. 

“You uh, you could stay with me,” Steve tells Bucky, scratches at the back of his neck.

Bucky shakes his head vehemently. “You’re batshit, Rogers.”

Steve smiles because he can’t not smile at Bucky when he talks to him like that, not now. Not when it’s been so long and Bucky’s patience is still so easily tried, his worry over Steve still high despite it all.

“You can have a warm bed, Bucky, and a bath. Food. Let’s give it a shot, huh?”

“I can’t.”

“One night. Just try it for a night we can put the cushions on the floor. Do you remember that? Like we would when we were kids or let our legs hang off the fire escape.”

“Your friends, the avengers,” Bucky observes. “They’ll know.”

“They won’t. And if they find out somehow what are they gonna do, huh? I’m not gonna let ‘em do anything.”

They both know he won’t. Hell, Bucky could have his hand wrapped around Steve’s throat and Steve would probably politely ask him to stop and ask if he could help somehow. 

Bucky agrees after sitting silently in thought. “One night.”

Steve lets out a relieved sigh and lays his arm over Bucky’s shoulder, tells him to grab his book. Bucky wants to meet Steve later, but Steve refuses.

“I don’t want you to get caught with me.”

“You can wear my helmet,” Steve tells him, eyes the glinting metal of his hand. “And a glove.”

~

Steve tries to ignore how good it feels to have Bucky’s arms around him like this, just like Bucky tries to pretend that this isn’t the safest and warmest he’s felt in ages, pressed against Steve’s back, his chin against Steve’s shoulder.

Steve takes off and Bucky holds tighter, wishes he could feel the wind on his face. When they get back to Steve’s place, Bucky keeps the helmet on till their inside behind closed doors. 

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“It doesn’t look like anyone lives here.”

Steve follows Bucky’s gaze around the apartment. 

“I haven’t put much thought into decorating. Sam’s mentioned it a couple of times, bu-”

“Sam?”

“My friend with the wings,” Steve explains.

“I broke those,” Bucky remembers.

“Yes you did.”

Bucky looks down. Steve can tell that memories of that day are playing in Bucky’s head like a film reel of reasons why Bucky shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be with Steve at all.

“You did a lot of messed up stuff that day, pal, but you didn’t just walk away from it all. You pulled me out of the water, Bucky.”

“Cause I knew you. I always know you.”

Steve’s heart feels like it did before the serum for a moment, like it isn’t quite beating how it should be. He looks at what remains of Bucky, his Bucky, and can’t find words just yet, so Bucky does.

“After the fight at the overpass in DC,” Bucky starts, “I told Pierce I knew you. They didn’t give me any answers of course, but I knew I knew you, Steve. They wiped me again after, but I think I held on to some of it… me,” he corrects. “I think that’s why it came back to me on the helicarrier.”

“I’m glad it did.”

Bucky looks up, combs through his messy hair. “Me, too.” His voice is soft, sincere, and there’s a ghost of a smile dancing at his lips.

“Now you know you’re the best guy I know,” Steve says, “but you stink. Let me show you the shower.”

~

Steve leaves out a fresh pair of sweats and a t-shirt for Bucky. When he comes out of the shower with his hair all wet wearing Steve’s clothes, it makes Steve’s heart not work properly again.

“Feel better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Steve nods and Bucky sits on the couch, scrubs his hand over his face. 

“Are you hungry? I don’t have a lot right now, but I have some leftovers I could heat up for you if you’d like. Or if you just want to sleep that’s ok, too,” Steve adds when he sees Bucky yawn.

“I could use some rest.”

“I figured.”

Steve goes to grab a blanket and pillow and by the time he gets back, Bucky’s head is on the armrest, soft breaths emitting from his parted lips. Steve covers Bucky with the blanket and leaves the pillow on the couch just in case. Even the smallest movement wakes Bucky, but he keeps his eyes closed, thanks Steve quietly.

“Anytime.”

~

The screaming wakes Steve up at about 2am. It takes him only a second before he’s tripping out of bed and running to Bucky, falling on his knees next to the couch. 

“Bucky, hey, it’s ok.”

The words spilling out of Bucky’s mouth are jumbled Russian and English. His face is twisted in agony and he’s sweating profusely and when he opens his eyes gasping for air, his first instinct is to grab Steve by the throat.

“It’s me, Steve. I’m real,” he chokes out. “Bucky. Stop, Buck.”

The hand loosens and the fog in Bucky’s eyes dissipates and then Bucky is curled in on himself with his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry, Steve, it’s the nightmares-“

“I know, I know,” Steve tells him, rubs circles into his back. “I’m ok. You’re ok.”

“They feel so real.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened in the dream?”

Bucky shrugs. “It’s just me on the table and they’re about to put me under a-and they tell me everyone I’ve known is dead and-“

He pauses when his voice sounds choked up and Steve instinctively wraps his arms around Bucky and Bucky does the same and they just hold each other for a second.

Bucky inhales against Steve’s neck, lets out a deep breath that warms Steve’s skin. Steve just squeezes tighter. When they pull apart, it’s gently, limb by limb.

“I think maybe I’ll go back to my building.”

“What, why?”

“I don’t need to wake you up in the middle of the night with this shit.”

“Let me do this, Bucky, please. Let me be here for you.”

“Jesus, Steve, you don’t always have to be the good guy,” Bucky says, more tired than angry.

He sees the hurt in Steve’s eyes, but Steve just shakes his head. 

“And you don’t always have to be the bad guy. Stop pushing me away, Bucky, give me a chance to just… be here.”

They’re both tired, hair messed up, eyelids heavy. Bucky eventually nods. “Yeah, ok.”

“Ok.”

Steve stands up and affectionately strokes his hand down the back of Bucky’s head, gives him a gentle squeeze on the back of his neck. Steve tells him to get rest, to come get him if he needs anything, and Bucky nods.

Steve climbs into bed and when he feels himself drifting in and out if sleep, he hears footsteps. He smiles to himself when he hears a gentle knock on the door, calls for Bucky to come in.

“Since you’re being a pain in the ass and making me stay, I feel like you’d be nice enough to let me crash in here.”

Steve can hear the smile in Bucky’s voice, the lightheartedness. 

“C’mere, punk.”

Bucky slides in next to Steve, but doesn’t lie down right away. He leans back against the headboard, stares at the back of Steve’s head and quickly turns his gaze to the ceiling when Steve rolls over to face him.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Everything.”

Steve won’t pry. He keeps his head propped on his elbow and Bucky looks down at him occasionally. It’s like he’s checking to make sure they’re both still there, that this isn’t just a dream.

“We always shared beds,” Bucky says, voice hardly a notch above a whisper. “Right?”

“Sure did.”

“Why?”

“When we were kids, it was cause we had to stay warm one way or another.”

“We were poor,” Bucky notes. “And what about the other times?”

“Same reason in the war, I guess. And ya know, comfort and all.”

“Comfort.”

“I felt safer having you next to me,” Steve admits. “I think you did, too.”

Bucky nods. Makes sense, doesn’t it? Why else would he be drawn to Steve’s bed now? Steve doesn’t mind at all.

“You should try to sleep, Bucky.”

“I want to, believe me, but I’ll feel like shit if I wake you up again.”

“Don’t fuss over me so much.”

“You always fussed over me, still do.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve pauses thoughtfully, shrugs. “It’s you.”

Bucky looks at Steve. Really looks at him, like he’s searching for something in Steve’s eyes. Steve almost forgot how icy Bucky’s eyes are and can see them clearly now even in the dark, how strikingly cold and gentle they are at the same time.

“Go to sleep,” Bucky urges Steve when he notices his slow blinks and slipping hand.

“Sleep well, Bucky.”

Bucky watches Steve drift off pretty quickly. It takes Bucky awhile, but eventually the rhythm of his breaths matches Steve’s and he falls asleep with his head tilted towards Steve’s.

~

Bucky’s gone when Steve wakes up the next morning. He’s as sad as he is unsurprised. He was hoping to make breakfast, talk some more, make up for all the time they’ve lost.

When Bucky agreed to one night, he meant exactly that and not a minute more. Steve’s tempted to go looking for him, but knowing Bucky, he’s on the move and maybe even already found a new hideaway.

Steve’s sure it’ll be some time before he sees his best friend again until he sees the note scribbled onto a torn piece of paper on the kitchen counter.

_Just need some time. Hope you don’t mind if I come to the window._  
_-B_

Steve carries the piece of paper to his room and drops it on his nightstand. Not a single thing matters more to him right now than the fact that Bucky’s coming back. Little by little, he’s coming back.

~

Sam’s over for dinner like he always is one night of the week. Steve goes to his place on another night and sometimes they meet each other to go out instead. Steve likes the routine, could always use the company. He lacked a friend for too long before he found Sam and Sam’s the most loyal person he knows.

“We scraped different countries to find your guy and the whole time he’s been right here?”

“Well we know it wasn’t the _whole_ time.”

Sam shrugs. “That’s true. Even after he hit those bases, he probably moved around a lot.”

Steve nods, passes Sam a plate loaded with food.

“If Barnes doesn’t wife you up, I might have to.”

Steve’s grip tightens on his plate and it feels like it might crack under the pressure. He takes too long to speak and when Sam looks back at him, his eyes narrow.

“C’mon Cap, it’s a secret?”

“W- what do you mean?”

“Ok, Steve, play the dumbass. I was joking anyway.”

“Sorry. Took me by surprise is all.”

“Mhm.”

Steve sits down across from Sam and they eat in silence. Steve can hear Sam’s foot tapping under the table and he’s shoving down the food too quickly. Steve tries to think of something to say, anything to take Sam’s focus off the topic Steve is sure is coming.

“So did you see the game last night?”

“Really, Steve? That’s all you can come up with?”

“Gimme a break, Sam,” Steve tells him, but there’s a smile there. 

“I’m only asking cause I’ve never seen Captain America blush like that,” Sam tells Steve. “I’m sure you’ve heard that there’s truth behind jokes. So was there some truth there, man?”

Steve sighs and picks at his food with his fork, but doesn’t eat anymore of it. 

“You already know the answer don’t you?”

“I want you to feel like you can tell me, Steve, and if you can’t yet, that’s ok.”

Steve feels a surge of guilt. Sam is an unbelievably good friend and Steve doesn’t deserve him just like he doesn’t deserve to have Bucky back after what happened. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to keep them both forever.

“I think you’re the only person I feel like I can tell. It just caught me off guard.”

“Understandable. I can leave it alone.”

“No, you can’t,” Steve replies. “We both know you’ll crack a joke any chance you can get.”

“Well you said it.”

Steve scoops another forkful of food and Sam claps his shoulder on his way to the sink. They don’t need to say it to know- Sam won’t tell a soul, but he will absolutely turn this into their own longest running joke.

~

Steve startles when he hears knuckles rapping at his window on his way out of the shower. He trips over his own feet trying to run to unlock it and almost drops his towel. He doesn’t miss Bucky’s gaze travel lower through the glass and he’s thankful for the hot shower making his skin red so that the sudden flush is less noticeable. He realizes a little late, but it hits him. 

Bucky looked. Before he can overthink it, he slides the window shut and brushes it off, sure it means nothing. Anyone would look at someone whose towel is about to fall even when they shouldn’t. That’s what Steve tells himself.

“You really came back.”

“I’ve done some fucked up things, Steve, but I’d never lie to you.”

That one knocks the wind right out of him. He gets dressed while Bucky gets settled and they both pretend Bucky’s not admiring from the other side of the room.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too,” Bucky says. 

He means it, Steve can tell, even if he does sound uninterested. Steve watches him pull a notebook out of his knapsack and kick his shoes off. 

“Can I shower?”

“Of course.”

Steve is, once again, taken aback by the beauty of a freshly showered Bucky Barnes. Steve can tell Bucky smells good just from looking at him. His hair is leaving droplet marks on his shoulders and it’s darker when it’s wet so it brings out his eyes.

“Have you eaten? Can I get you anything?” 

Bucky shrugs and then nods. “Yeah, I guess I should eat.”

“Of course you should,” Steve tells him as he leads him to the kitchen. “I have some leftover steak with potatoes and some broccoli and corn if you’d like? Or-“

“Yes, please.”

Steve has a snack of his own while Bucky scarfs down the food. He literally throws his head back and sighs after and Steve smiles.

“Good, huh?”

“Delicious.”

Steve grabs Bucky’s plate and Bucky stops him with a gentle hand on Steve’s wrist. “Let me. I should try to do more day to day things like this.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Steve just watches while Bucky scrubs it clean, almost wraps his arms around Bucky from behind, but thinks twice. They walk back to the bedroom together and Steve takes it to mean he won’t be sleeping alone tonight.

“Staying with me again, huh?”

“If it’s alright,” Bucky says, hesitant near the door.

Steve tries his hand at physical contact by wrapping his arm over Bucky’s shoulder and pulling him in when he sits on the opposite side of the bed. 

“I like sharing a bed with you, Buck. Feels natural.”

“Natural. Yeah, that’s- that’s what it is, I think that’s why I want to.”

Bucky doesn’t pull away and Steve swears he actually snuggles in a little bit. Bucky grabs at Steve’s wrist hanging limply over Bucky’s shoulder and Steve freezes. 

“I know what you’re gonna say when I say this, but you don’t have to do all this for me, Steve. I don’t want you to feel obligated, I’m not worth it.”

“So you know already that I think you’re worth everything?”

“Steve-”

“Listen to me, please, I need you to get it through your damn thick skull that I’ll do anything for you, got it? I let you go once, Bucky, I’m not gonna let that happen again.”

Bucky hasn’t let go of Steve’s wrist and it feels like Steve’s been joined up with the piece he’s been missing, but that’s no surprise to him.

“You deserve to get better. You deserve to have someone be there for you through all of this.”

“I can do this on my own.”

Steve’s not sure if Bucky’s saying that for his own sake or to Steve. The words take Steve back to the 1940’s after his mom’s funeral. Bucky’s following him to the door and Steve says something almost just like that to Bucky when he offers to move in with Steve, spend time the way they did when they were kids.

_The thing is, you don’t have to._

That’s what Steve says now. He watches Bucky’s eyes widen and he knows that Bucky’s taken back to the very same memory in front of the old apartment.

“Cause I’m with you till the end of the line,” Bucky finishes. 

Bucky’s grip on Steve’s wrist tightens and Steve cuddles him tighter.

“You remember.”

“I remembered when you first said it on the helicarrier, I think a part of me always did. It’s so clear now.”

“I’m not going to let you do this alone. You always looked out for me, Buck, for that dumb, skinny kid from Brooklyn.”

Bucky smiles and looks away so Steve doesn’t see how shiny his eyes get, how they start to redden at the rims.

“Let me look out for the hardheaded punk from a few doors down, ok?”

Bucky can’t really argue with that. He just nods. This is what he needs. The warmth of another person, not the cold, merciless treatment he’d been getting from the Hydra handlers. He feels that warmth everywhere now, underneath his fingers where he touches Steve’s wrist, in his heart, even behind his eyes. 

Part of him doesn’t want to let himself have it. Guilt eats away at him and he nurtures it, lets it grow, lets it tell him what he does and doesn’t deserve. Steve melts it away, convinces Bucky even if just for a moment that he does deserve a little care. Bucky wishes he could do the same thing to the guilt Steve carries about the train, about everything.

“How could you have known?”

“Huh?”

Bucky realizes then that he must have started thinking out loud. He looks at Steve and registers how close their faces are, but brushes it off.

“The train. You feel so bad about it, but there’s no way you could have known that I survived the fall.”

“That doesn’t change-”

“Isn’t it the same for me then? I wasn’t in my own head when I killed all those people, but I still did it.”

Steve frowns and Bucky gives his wrist a slight tug. “I just want you to see that I’m not the only one who could use a hand.”

Steve bites back a smile and Bucky’s eyes narrow and Steve barely gets the words out before he starts laughing.

“That was a uh… pretty poor choice of words, Bucky.”

The corners of Steve’s eyes crinkle and he slaps his free hand against his chest. It’s not long at all before Bucky joins him. It’s a croaky sound, like the part of Bucky’s belly where he laughs the hardest from is broken. But it’s distinctly a laugh and the lopsided smile on his face doesn’t lie.

“You’re making fun of a broken man, jackass.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve chokes out when he manages to catch his breath. “Oh, Buck, I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard.”

“I’d hate you right now if I could.”

Steve’s smile softens and he gives Bucky another squeeze. 

“Seriously, Steve,” Bucky says to grab Steve’s attention and bring him back down. “I know you didn’t just give up on me and you’re not giving up on me now. I don’t know if I can ever make that up to you, but I can try.”

“Just stay,” Steve replies. “You don’t have to make it up to me, all I want is for you to stay.”

Bucky nods, chews his lip. They sit like that for a while longer and they’re both reluctant to let go. It’s strange how they’ve haunted each other’s nightmares in fear of losing one another again and now just inches apart, they question if it’s all just a dream.

~

Steve wakes up alone again. His heart sinks a little, but when he rubs at his eyes and sits up, he sees Bucky’s things in the corner. He flops back onto the mattress with a sigh of relief and checks his phone, finds a message from Sam.

**Is he back yet?**

**He came back last night. Gone this morning, but left his stuff.**

Sam doesn’t reply again and Steve should have expected that meant that he was on his way. Steve’s pouring coffee and flipping through the newspaper when Sam knocks at the door.

“Come in!”

“Hey man, don’t you know that you can get all that information right here on this thing called a phone?”

Steve passes him a cup of coffee and waves him off. “You know I prefer it this way.”

“Alright, gramps, I gotcha.”

Sam gets comfortable and when Steve doesn’t offer anything up right away, he digs in. 

“Still not back?”

“Probably not till later,” Steve replies with a shrug.

Sam notes the disinterest and when Steve sees him staring through narrowed eyes, he rolls his own.

“What?”

“You’re just… quiet.”

“Look, Sam, I just. I don’t wanna get my hopes up, that’s all.”

Sam softens. “I get that, but if he left his things, he’s gotta be coming back, right?”

“I hope so.”

Sam hangs out for most of the day. They eat lunch, watch the game, pretend like they’re both not waiting to hear a knock on the window or for it to just slide open. It doesn’t and Sam promised his mom he’d be there for dinner tonight.

“I was hoping to have some words about him almost blowing my ass up,” Sam jokes. “Next time.”

Steve smiles, claps his shoulder. “Give your mom my best wishes.”

“Sure thing, Cap.”

~

Bucky doesn’t return till that night. He knocks at the window and Steve reminds him that it’s unlocked so he can just let himself in.

“I feel weird just coming into your apartment like that.”

Steve’s not sure if it’s too soon to say what he wants to, but he does anyway.

“Now that I’ve got you back, it’s as much mine as it is yours, ok?”

“Steve, no, c’mon-”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we lived together, right? So why not?”

Bucky shrugs. There’s no real reason to turn it down. This is where he wants to be and he has nowhere else to go anyway and it wouldn’t matter where the two of them are anyway, as long as they’re together. Bucky feels like he’s home when he’s with Steve and he’s working on letting himself feel positive things like that so Steve’s right- why not.

“I know you need time and everything, but I want you to have a place to come back to regularly. You’ll always have that here, but if you want, we can work on getting your own place.”

“No, no,” Bucky replies too quickly. “This works.”

Steve smiles warmly. “Ok. We’ll have to get you some clothes and things.”

Bucky just nods and it sinks in suddenly that Bucky’s really here and they’re talking about shopping for new clothes and it all seems so easy and normal. Steve flops onto the bed and rubs his hand over his face, smiles when Bucky pops into his line of sight from the other side of the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just can’t believe you’re really here is all.”

“Oh.”

“Almost two years, Buck. Me and Sam looked for you for almost two years and I find you in Brooklyn. It’s just really something.”

Bucky nods, takes his place beside Steve when he sits up. 

“You didn’t have to do it alone.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Hydra bases,” Steve reminds him.

“Yes, I did.”

Steve shakes his head and Bucky sighs softly, drawing Steve’s attention to his mouth, the way his lips part just a little around the breath.

“I just wanted you back, Bucky, I would have found a way to help you.”

“That’s not what I wanted,” Bucky admits, eyes to the ground. “Steve, I- I couldn’t keep running. I was getting so tired and sick of looking over my shoulder and I still am. I needed to do it myself before I moved on, I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk losing the best thing in my life to the worst.”

Steve’s left speechless. There’s a short span of silence before Bucky speaks again and he looks up at Steve this time, those damn ocean like eyes of his so vulnerable.

“I’m still a mess of broken pieces, but I’m getting there. I didn’t want you to find me the way I was. I was terrified and paranoid and I was doing exactly what they trained me to do even if it wasn’t at their hands anymore. And I wanted that part of my life to be over if I ever saw you again.”

Steve wants to scream it at the edge of the world that Bucky Barnes is allowed to need someone to lean on, and god damnit, why doesn’t he understand that? Steve gets it, though, deep down he really does.

“We were right on your tail,” Steve remembers. “Walked into an undercover Hydra base and it was destroyed.”

Bucky frowns and his eyebrows knit together. 

“I’m never doing that again.”

Steve mirrors the frown and scoots closer to Bucky. “I know, Buck.”

“I hate it, Steve. I hate that I can do those things, but I couldn’t walk away. I lost everything because of them, I almost lost you.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say to that. 

“I worry sometimes you know. That there are more bases, that someone’s out there watching my every move,” Bucky admits. “I can’t do it again, Steve.”

Bucky sounds so worn, so tired, and it’s written in his eyes, etched into the lines of his face. 

“You won’t have to.”

“You can’t promise me that.”

“I can promise that I won’t let anything happen to you. I lost you once, Bucky, I’m not gonna lose you again.”

Steve sounds angry when he says it, like the anger’s making up for fear. It’s Bucky’s turn to stay quiet. They stare at each other hopelessly and Steve feels himself lean in and Bucky might, too. Steve gets distracted by Bucky’s mouth, so close, pretty even when its corners are turned down. Bucky sees Steve’s gaze flicker downward, but he ignores it, tries to calm his heart when Steve nudges closer and their thighs press together.

“I just want to know that this is over.”

There’s a tiredness in Bucky’s voice, raw emotion that makes Steve want to tear the people that hurt Bucky to pieces. 

“I’ve got you, Bucky,” Steve reminds him.

He squeezes Bucky’s thigh without thinking twice and Bucky rests his hand on top of Steve’s.

“I know you do.”

Steve pats Bucky’s thigh softly and grabs a towel and sweats for Bucky after he’s gotten changed himself. Steve’s struck by Bucky’s arm when he gets out of the shower. He’s seen it up close of course, but the scars on Bucky’s shoulder where skin meets metal still throw Steve off.

“I don’t like it either, but you don’t have to stare.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he waves his hand in the air. “No, no, sorry, I-“

“I’m messing with you, Steve,” Bucky says with a lopsided smile.

“Real funny.”

Bucky smiles bigger and sits on the couch next to Steve.

“Can you tell me about me?”

“What do you wanna know?”

“Anything.”

Steve just launches into it. The admiration in his voice is clear when he talks about their younger years in Brooklyn, how Bucky was always there, how Steve wanted to be like him, but never could.

“You had a hell of a swing,” Bucky remembers. “For a little guy.”

Steve smiles at that. “You were always saving my behind and patching me up afterward.”

There’s a brief pause as Steve thinks it all over and he shakes his head. “And overseas? Jesus, Bucky, you were incredible. Even after what you went through the first time around, you were so strong and brave. Strongest guy I’ve ever known, and the most loyal.”

“You’re fawning, Steve.”

“I mean it, Buck, you were really something. Always there to pick up the pieces whether it was for me or your sisters or the whole damn country.”

“Tell me more about my family.”

“You don’t remember them well, huh?”

Bucky shakes his head sadly.

“Well they looked at you like the sun was shining out of your ass and that’s exactly how you felt about them, but you never showed it.”

Bucky smiles and Steve almost loses his train of thought because even with so many years worth of sadness behind his eyes, Bucky’s smile is the most radiant he’s ever seen.

“You were exactly what a big brother should be. Overprotective, easily annoyed, willing to fix messy hair if nobody else could.”

“Can’t seem to fix my own hair.”

Steve giggles. He doesn’t mention how nice it is to hear Bucky crack a joke, doesn’t want to make a spectacle of something so small. It’s just that it’s him, it’s Bucky being Bucky, and Steve wants to- he wants to do _something_ to show Bucky how happy he is to have him back.

Bucky’s smile fades and Steve’s sure he knows where this is going. He can count on one hand how many times he’s seen Bucky Barnes cry and those memories are not ones he likes to look back on. It breaks Steve’s heart to see the quiver in his bottom lip, hear that shake in his voice, the rough cracks around the edges.

“They’re gone.”

Steve squeezes Bucky’s shoulder and pulls him in a little. “I’m so sorry, Bucky.”

“I didn’t get to see them grow up, I didn’t get to say good-”

Steve’s stomach tightens and his heart weakens when Bucky leans in and completely wraps himself around Steve. He buries his face in Steve’s neck and squeezes hard and Steve breathes into Bucky’s hair, holds him as tight as he can without hurting him. There’s no sound in the room except Bucky’s inconsistent breaths. The minutes pass and Bucky doesn’t let go till his breathing evens out, but Steve keeps him close.

“Looks like you’re all I’ve got,” Bucky says.

“Yeah and you’re stuck with me.”

Bucky’s lips tilt up and Steve musses up Bucky’s hair. 

“Good. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Steve gives Bucky another squeeze and nearly stands up, but Bucky pulls him back down. He looks sleepy and Steve already knows what he’s going to say.

“Let me just grab a blanket.”

Steve gets distracted and takes care of putting away some laundry and checking in with Sam and by the time he goes back to the couch with a blanket in hand, Bucky’s sound asleep.

He stirs a little when Steve covers him with the blanket, but he’s out quickly enough. Steve pads to his room and replays Bucky telling him he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Steve sleeps easy that night. The only way he could sleep any easier would be with Bucky right next to him instead of crashed on the couch.

~

For the first time since his first night with Steve, Bucky stays through the day. Last night sits in the back of their minds, but neither of them brings it up. They just need to be in the same space with nothing so heavy for a little while so they do just that.

Steve shows Bucky the recipe for that steak from the other night. They revisit memories of nights at Coney Island and bleacher seats at Dodger games and double dates gone horribly wrong. Something inside of Steve nags at him to talk to Bucky more, to be there to shoulder some of the pain, the weight that he carries. The other part doesn’t want to ruin their day, take away the lightheartedness that’s surrounded them.

When Steve comes out of the shower that night, his skin prickles with goosebumps. He looks at the open window and almost curses under his breath thinking Bucky’s gone, but then he sees his silhouette on the fire escape.

“Bucky? You alright?”

“Just needed some air.”

Steve throws on a sweats and hoodie and climbs through the window to join his friend. He towels at his hair and Bucky stares straight ahead at the sun sinking behind buildings.

“Like when we were kids,” Bucky reminds Steve.

They sit in comfortable silence, side by side, cast in deep gold light from the sunset. It warms them against the chill in the air, but they still sit closer than they need to. 

This is all Steve ever wanted, really, even still. Sunsets on the fire escape with Bucky nestled up to him, their shoulders and thighs pressed together. Steve doesn’t realize that he’s reaching down to touch Bucky’s metal fingers as they drum on his thigh until he actually brushes his fingers over them.

Bucky can’t feel it on his fingers, but he feels it everywhere else. He looks up and Steve looks down and that’s just how it’s always been with them. Before Steve can do something stupid, he draws his hand back into his lap. They sit out together till the sky is a deep blue, till the chill in the air sends shivers down their spines.

“Think I’m gonna go inside,” Steve says. “You coming?”

“Sure.”

Neither of them feels like going to bed so Steve proposes they sit down and watch a movie.

“There are thousands now. Maybe you know that, but- well, they didn’t let you consume anything other than what they allowed, right?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well then we have to figure out what you like.”

“That could take a while.”

Steve nods. Bucky watches him flip through the selection on the television. Bucky looks at the images for each one and one in particular catches his eye.

“What’s that? With the skull. And the kids.”

Steve smiles. 

“Good choice.”

Instead of showing Bucky how far film technology has come, they settle down to watch an 80s classic. When the main character, Mikey, pulls out an inhaler in between sharp breaths, Bucky smiles.

“He’s like you used to be.”

Steve waits till one of the other kids starting running his mouth and he shoves Bucky’s shoulder. 

“That’s you.”

Bucky smiles. That broken sounding laugh rings through the apartment at some parts and at others, Bucky’s completely silent, engrossed in the story playing out on the screen.

Steve starts to fall asleep and Bucky shoves him harder than he means to.

“You’re going to miss the end,” he says brightly. 

Steve props his head in his hand and tries not to notice how Bucky leans on him more each passing minute. By the end of it, Bucky’s prepared to watch it again. 

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all. I think I’m gonna sleep though.”

“Ok.”

Steve doesn’t have a chance to clarify that he means sleep in his bed before Bucky makes himself comfortable against Steve, the two of them squeezed tightly onto the couch. Steve smiles at the back of Bucky’s head and rests his own against the arm of the couch. He falls asleep with Bucky’s back to his front, tangled under the blanket. 

~

Steve wakes up in a daze, forgot that he’d fallen asleep on the couch. Everything comes back to him slowly- the fire escape, the movie. And then he feels a slight shift under the blanket and the weight of another person against him and he gets this goofy smile on his face when he sees Bucky’s arm hanging off the couch, knuckles barely scraping the ground.

He doesn’t want to disturb Bucky so he waits it out. He sees that Bucky watched a couple of other movies while Steve was sleeping so he must have been up late.

He wakes up not long after Steve anyway, but Steve can tell he could use some more rest.

“I’ve got a couple of things to take care of today.”

“Yeah, ok.”

“Help yourself to anything you’d like and sleep in the bed if you want. If you plan to leave, just leave me another note so I know, ok?”

Bucky mumbles his agreement and rolls over on the couch after Steve’s gotten up. Steve’s sure to move quietly to avoid disturbing Bucky and with a prayer that Bucky’s there when he comes back and a longing glance, he leaves.

~

Steve missed his dinner with Sam and owes him a drink, so he waits outside one of their favorite breakfast joints for Sam. 

“Roomie’s not joining us?” Sam says, greets Steve with a pat on the back.

“He’s asleep.”

Sam gently slaps his chest, puts the back of his other hand up to his forehead.

“Did you kiss him goodbye before you left? Leave breakfast on the table?”

Steve shoves him and Sam bursts out laughing. Steve can act like he’s mad all he wants, but the redness in his cheeks gives him away. Sam wraps his arm over Steve’s shoulder as they walk to their table and Steve can only shake his head and smirk.

“How’s he doing?”

“Adjusting. He’s quiet for the most part.”

Sam nods. “What about you, Cap? How are you?”

“I’m just happy he’s back.”

“Well, I know that, lovebird.”

“Gimme a break,” Steve says, shakes his head. “I am worried though. I feel like he doesn’t want to put anything on me so he’s keeping so much to himself.”

“And you want him to come to a meeting.”

“You know me so well, Sammy.”

“Hey now, I said not to call me that.”

“Lovebird,” Steve reminds him. “Guess we’re even.”

Sam shrugs, narrows his eyes. He takes a bite of his food and steals some off Steve’s plate.

“You’re something else, Cap. You’re worried about your boy and want for him exactly what I’ve been asking you to try.”

“This isn’t about me right now.”

“No, but it can be once in a while.”

Steve stays quiet for a moment. They pick at their plates and stare out the window and Sam’s the first one to speak again only because he knows Steve won’t be. 

“He’s welcome to come,” Sam says sincerely. “And so are you.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“You’re my best friend, Cap. I got you for whatever you need, got it?”

Steve nods and Sam rolls his eyes. “You’re getting that damn puppy dog look, Steve. Cut that shit out.”

Steve laughs, casts his eyes away from Sam. 

“Why don’t you come by this weekend? Get to know him, let him get to know you a little.”

“I’ll be there.”

~

Bucky’s nightmares leave him shaken most nights. There hasn’t been one as severe as the one he had his first night staying with Steve, but they still wake him up, leave him a cold sweat longing to be comforted by Steve. Steve talks him through it every time, pushes sleep away, pulls Bucky close. 

Bucky has a bad one the night before Sam’s supposed to come over for the day. Steve doesn’t fall back asleep till Bucky does, combs through his hair to put him at ease. Steve doesn’t stay asleep for long and Sam can see when he gets there that Steve’s a little out of it.

“Nightmares,” Steve reminds Sam.

“I know you wanna take care of him, Steve, but you have to take care of yourself, too.”

“I just didn’t get a good night’s sleep, that’s all.”

Sam rolls his eyes and pushes Steve out of the kitchen. 

“I’ll finish the coffee,” Sam remarks.

“What about lunch?” 

“I cook better than you anyway.”

Steve hates when Sam gets this forceful, but Steve knows Sam is just looking out for him. So he doesn’t argue, just puts his hands up and flops onto the couch. He swears Sam is mumbling to himself about something, but he doesn’t have time to ask before he’s out like a light.

~

Sam sits at the table watching baseball game highlights on his phone. His gaze flickers over to the couch every few minutes to make sure Steve is still asleep and he sips his coffee that for some reason isn’t as good as Steve’s.

Bucky wanders into the room and Sam sees just in time before Bucky opens his mouth to greet Steve.

“He’s asleep,” Sam says softly.

Bucky stops in his tracks and eyes Sam from where he stands. There’s something in his eyes Sam can’t quite place. He doesn’t look like he’s going to hurt Sam or anything, he actually looks like he’s hurt himself.

“You’re Sam.”

“That’s me.”

“Sorry about your wings.”

Sam smiles and stands up to get some coffee for Bucky.

“It’s all good, I’ve got a new set.”

Bucky nods and pads to the kitchen. Sam’s gaze flickers to the pajamas that Bucky is wearing and he has to look away so he doesn’t look like a loon, the way he’s smiling. Sam bought them for Steve last Christmas as a joke- they’re printed with Captain America’s shield all over. 

“I kept him up,” Bucky says and it’s not a lot, but it’s enough to knock Sam back into shape.

“Don’t feel bad, Barnes. He’s keeping himself up.”

“Because of me.”

Sam sighs, lets his head sink. “You two are a match made in heaven.”

“What’s that?”

“Thinking out loud,” Sam dismisses. “So how’s it been coming back?”

Bucky shrugs. “Hard.”

“How do you feel about everything?”

“Ok.”

“C’mon, man, you broke my damn wings. Least you could do is talk to me.”

Bucky frowns and takes the mug of coffee Sam offers. 

“It’s not easy for me to talk about… anything, really.”

“I get that. Has Steve told you anything about what I do?”

“Not in detail.”

“Well I run meetings for Vets. We sit down and talk about whatever they’re going through.”

“Is this an invite?”

“Steve over there is stubborn as hell,” Sam says and that draws a smile from Bucky. “He hasn’t come to one yet, so I’m hoping you might. I think it could be good for you.”

Bucky tilts his head from side to side, chews his lip. “I’ll think about it.”

“Think about this- you owe me one. This is the only form of payback I accept.”

Bucky has to smile again. He likes Sam. And because he likes him, he feels worse about almost killing him, too.

“I did almost kill you,” Bucky says.

Sam smiles, too, real broad so it shows off the gap in his front teeth.

“Knew you’d make the right choice.”

They change the subject, talk about baseball. Bucky’s telling Sam about a memory of him and Steve at a Dodger game when they were kids and Sam’s smiling and nodding at the right parts when Steve groans mid-stretch on the couch.

Bucky looks over as Steve stands up. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

Sam’s eyebrows raise at the affectionate nickname, but he lets it slide. Steve joins them in the kitchen and Sam claps his shoulder. Bucky watches the contact intently, notes how Steve smiles at Sam.

“Sleep well?”

“Yeah, I needed that. Thanks, Sam.”

“You haven’t been sleeping because of me,” Bucky says. “You don’t have to stay up with me, Steve.”

“I know I don’t. I don’t mind, Buck, losing some sleep isn’t going to kill me.”

Bucky just shakes his head. Steve rests his hand on Bucky’s back, rubs up and pulls Bucky towards him, playfully rough. 

“Don’t fuss over me, pal. I’m good, I promise.”

Bucky looks at Steve with a warmth that practically covers the room and wraps his arm around Steve’s waist for a moment before they break apart. Steve’s got those puppy eyes Sam pretends to hate and he just shakes his head to himself, focuses his attention elsewhere.

Bucky leaves the room for a second and Sam corners Steve immediately. 

“You’re in deep, huh?”

“Jesus, Sam,” Steve hisses, gestures with his hands for Sam to lower his voice. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Sam half whispers. “It’s just- how are you guys not,” Sam trails off and shakes his head again. “You know what? It’s none of my business, but the two of y’all are a couple of fools.”

“What do you mean? Sam?”

He’s already walking away and waving Steve off. Bucky joins them again so Steve drops it. They sit down to watch the game in the living room, Bucky unnecessarily close to Steve and Steve not minding at all. They order pizza because nobody felt like cooking and it feels right, Steve and Bucky and Sam laughing over beers and yelling at the television. It feels like Steve has some semblance of a family again and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

~

Bucky doesn’t want to make a big deal out of going to one of Sam’s meetings. He also has no idea how he’s supposed to show up and not draw stares. So he calls Sam that morning when Steve’s in the shower and they arrange for Bucky to get there early and sit in the back of the room, keep his hat on and his hair up. 

Bucky gets to the hall where Sam holds the meetings just as Sam arrives. Sam warns him that some of the discussions might be triggering, but Bucky knows that, prepared for it the best he could.

“If you have to take a minute, feel free to go outside.”

“Ok, thanks.”

Bucky sits at the back like they planned, wears a pair of sunglasses just in case. He admires Sam for the work he’s doing here, can tell how much he cares.

One person talks about how they feel like they keep seeing the ghost of one of their comrades that was lost in combat. Bucky swallows and he sees Sam look his way so he nods once.

“It can be hard to make peace with losing someone and just as hard to convince yourself that they’re at peace themselves. For a while, I felt like Riley was trying to stay, like he knew himself that it wasn’t his time. It takes a lot of telling yourself that they’ve found peace or that they will.”

Bucky’s eyes widen behind the frames. No wonder this is Steve’s best friend, Bucky thinks. Sam’s as broken a man as Steve is, he’s just doing a better job of putting his pieces back together. 

The meeting ends and Sam walks out with the group, tells them all he’ll see them at the next session. When he walks back into the room, Bucky’s flipping through a little brochure that Sam has copies of.

“I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Thanks, man,” Sam replies sincerely. “So what’d you think?”

“You really care about this stuff.”

“Someone has to.”

Bucky nods, rubs the back of his neck. “I think it’s going to take a few meetings for me to be able to put myself out there,” Bucky says. “And I’m going to have to be subtle.”

“So you’re coming back.”

“Yeah, I- I think so.”

Bucky smiles when Sam lays a hand on his shoulder and gives him a pat.

Sam figures he should tests the waters. “Good. You need more help than everyone that was in this room combined.”

The corners of Sam’s mouth turn up when Bucky’s do. Bucky shakes his head, but he’s still smiling and he doesn’t deny it.

“I’m gonna head home,” Bucky says. “Well, Steve’s. I’m going back to Steve’s.”

“Hey, Barnes,” Sam calls out. “I don’t think Steve minds you calling his place home.” 

Bucky looks over his shoulder and Sam’s sure he’s got wide, puppy eyes behind those glasses just like Steve’s.

“Just a thought,” Sam adds.

“Thanks, Sam.”

Bucky leaves then and tries to say it to himself on his way back. _I’m going home._

~

Bucky climbs up the fire escape and Steve greets him at the window with a quick peck on the lips. 

“Where ya been?”

Bucky pulls his hat off and combs through his hair.

“I was actually at Sam’s meeting.”

Steve smiles brightly and drops what he’s doing, wraps his arms around Bucky and squeezes tight.

“That’s great, Buck.”

“You think so? Then why haven’t you gone to one?”

Steve sighs. “You sound like Sam.”

“I think he worries over you as much as I do,” Bucky admits.

Steve knows Bucky’s right. He also knows that facing what he’s gone through would be helpful, relieving, and terrifying all at once. He’s just not sure he’s ready for that.

“I think what Sam does is incredibly noble,” Steve explains. “I’m just not sure I’m ready to be a part of it myself.”

“Just think about it, ok, Steve?”

Steve nods, kisses Bucky’s fingertip when Bucky palms his cheek. “Ok.”

~

Steve’s up with the sun the way Bucky is with the moon. Polar opposites, the two of them, and that’s where the balance lies. It’s not uncommon for Steve to get up early and leave Bucky sleeping in bed while he goes out to meet Sam or run errands. 

Steve left Bucky to shop today. They need some food in the fridge and Steve has some things he wants to pick up for Bucky.

Steve returns a few hours later to find Bucky sprawled out on the couch. He’s got his notebook on the table and a movie on the TV and he looks comfortable, at home and Steve feels like a greeting kiss would fit in perfectly here.

“Good to see you’ve made yourself at home.”

Bucky looks up and there’s a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. Steve drops his bags on the floor and sits down next to Bucky on the couch.

“Movie night again?”

“You’ve gotta watch this one,” Bucky says, nodding at a young Matthew Broderick. “It’s great.”

Steve just smiles. He reaches into the bag and pulls out a phone. 

“This is for you. It’s only temporary, just so you can contact me if you need to. My number’s in there and so is my friend, Sam’s.”

Bucky nods and holds it in his hand. Steve also pulls out a pair of pajama bottoms, a sweatshirt, and some socks, among other things that weigh down the bag..

“You didn’t have to do this, Steve.”

“I wanted to. Can’t have you getting used to sleeping in my clothes,” Steve jokes.

“I don’t mind,” Bucky says quietly.

Cause Bucky likes how Steve’s clothes smell like laundry soap and Steve’s cologne. They’re soft, overused, and Bucky feels at home in them. Natural. Like sharing a bed with Steve, like breathing.

“Oh, Buck, I was only joking. You think I mind you sleeping in my things?”

“I would understand if you did.”

“Well I don’t. Just thought I’d give you the option and you know, you have some things that are just yours.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

The notebook on the table catches Steve’s eye and he nods at it. “Writing?”

“Yeah, I was trying to. Some thoughts are easier to put on paper than to say out loud.”

“That’s great, Buck. You always had a talent for it.”

“Do you still draw?”

“Yeah, here and there. Helps when I’m down.”

“Do you still have old drawings?”

Steve nods and Bucky brightens hopefully. “Can I see them?”

Bucky props himself up with his head in his hand, gaze flickering between Steve and his drawings. Steve explains the memories behind them, how each one captures something he didn’t want to forget.

“Drew this one at Coney Island. You had ice cream dripping down your chin, all messy,” Steve remembers fondly. “We kept saying we should head home soon, but we didn’t. Went home burnt like hell. I think we would have slept right there on the beach if we could’ve.”

“You drew me a lot,” Bucky observes.

“Yeah, well. You were always there,” Steve shrugs. 

He casts his head down so Bucky doesn’t see how his cheeks flush pink and Bucky traces his finger over the paper, flips to the next page.

“Who’s this?”

“That’s Peggy,” Steve says with a nod. “Agent Carter, you remember?”

 

Bucky’s a little fuzzy, but the name and face both ring a bell.

“I think so. You went steady with her?”

“Never officially. I think we both wanted to, but it never happened.”

“Why not?”

“She worked for SHIELD, I was fighting in the war. Just never had the chance. We always talked about going dancing, going out on a real date…”

Bucky watches Steve for a moment and inhales deeply. “You loved her.”

Steve looks from the paper to Bucky and he thinks for a moment before he nods slowly, bites his lip.

“I think I did, yeah.”

“She’s gone now, isn’t she.”

“Last year. Old age. She remembered me to the end, Bucky.”

Bucky rubs his hand through Steve’s hair, same way Steve does to him. Steve looks at Bucky head on and Bucky’s hand falls to Steve’s shoulder, squeezes warmly.

“Sorry, Steve. I remember bits and pieces and I could tell back then. You cared about her.”

“Thanks, Buck.”

Bucky almost admits that one of the things he remembers about Carter is being jealous of her, of the way Steve looked at her. He keeps it to himself even after he’s opened his mouth to speak. He snaps it shut, flips to the next page in Steve’s beat up old sketchbook.

“Me, again,” Bucky smiles.

His expression falls when he realizes he’s in uniform in this one. He’s got his dog tags on and his hair’s falling over his forehead and he’s looking down and away, staring off at nothing. Bucky feels like he’s looking into a mirror when he looks at the drawing’s eyes. 

Bucky stares at the drawing for a while and Steve lets him sit in silence. When Bucky looks up from the page, he looks broken. Like the walls have cracked.

“I wish everything was different.”

“Oh, Bucky-”

“I shouldn’t have survived the fall, I wish I hadn’t. I wish I died fighting. Sometimes I wish I never fell at all, got to come home and be with my family again. Goddamnit, I should be dead.”

Steve feels bile in his throat and hurt in his heart and he could smack Bucky upside that dumb head of his, he could. He stands up and walks away, too dizzy, too angry.

“Don’t you ever say that to me.”

“Steve.”

“No, Bucky. No, I can’t hear you say that.”

“It would have been better than the way it went. For everyone.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Buck,” Steve yells and Bucky’s sort of stunned into silence. “Jesus, you have no idea. You’ve got no goddamn clue. I missed you even when I was gone, Bucky. I wasn’t even sure what I believed in anymore, I didn’t know if I believed in heaven, but damnit if I didn’t hope that’s where you were smoking your favorite cigarettes and drinking the best whiskey and singing those old songs you loved even if all I wanted was to have you here.”

“I’m a ghost, Steve. I’m a dead man walking and I hate it. It should have gone differently.”

“You weren’t meant to die out there.”

“So what was I meant for, huh? To become the Winter Soldier? A goddamn puppet on a string just to kill people?”

“That’s not what I mean and you know that.”

“So tell me then, Steve,” Bucky shouts at him, voice rising with every word. “Tell me _what the fuck I’m good for_.”

Bucky’s shoulders rise and fall to hard, too quickly. He’s standing in front of Steve now and Steve’s breathless, shaken, feels the same way he did when that aircraft was heading straight for the ice.

“Me, Bucky.”

Bucky’s shoulders relax when he lets go of a deep breath. Steve looks up and shakes his head, slams his fist against the table to knock out some of the frustration.

“You’re good for me.”

“No, I’m-”

“Damnit, Buck, don’t you get it? I thought you were dead and I still didn’t let you go. I never let you go, Buck, I always came back to you.”

“Steve-”

“If you died out there I wouldn’t have you now. And God, I wish I could change how we got here, Bucky, I wish I could take away all the pain you’ve felt, but we’re here and I’ve got you back, and maybe it’s selfish, but I need you, Bucky.”

Bucky’s speechless, breathless, doesn’t know up from down. Steve’s talking too fast for his own mind and his heart’s pounding so hard that sweat’s gathering near his brows and his hands are shaking furiously.

“If you should have died out there, then I should have gone with you. Cause I never could live without you, could I?”

Steve sniffs and looks away. He turns back, but keeps his eyes to the floor when he feels Bucky’s hands on his neck. There’s that feeling again like the rush Steve felt before he crashed into the ice, his heart in his throat, his stomach tight.

And then he feels Bucky’s mouth brush against his and it’s like he’s crashing, like he’s hitting the water too fast and coming up for air even faster.

Bucky nudges his nose against Steve’s and the anger that took over before dissipates now, makes room for them to get closer. Steve reaches out carefully, rests his hand against Bucky’s neck and guides him closer.

It’s too soft for seventy years apart. It’s too soft for _I’ve loved you since we were kids_ , for years of wishing that they were doing more in the beds they shared, but it’s perfect. 

It’s soft and then it isn’t. It’s tongues between teeth and hands in hair and Bucky can taste his own name in Steve’s mouth. Steve lets Bucky push him till they hit the kitchen counter and their hips press together and their bodies radiate heat against each other’s skin. Bucky pants against Steve’s mouth before he drops his head to Steve’s neck, his hair falling over his face like a curtain that won’t let anyone see how hungrily he mouths at Steve’s neck.

Steve calls for Bucky, voice broken and soft. When Bucky doesn’t listen, Steve begs. Bucky gives in eventually and they push and pull, need each other closer even when there’s not a fraction of space between them.

“All this time,” Bucky mutters.

“Always.”

Bucky pushes Steve’s jacket off his shoulders and Steve lifts his arms up, pulls his shirt over his head. Steve flips them around, drops his mouth to Bucky’s neck. He can’t stand not to kiss Bucky now that he knows what it feels like so he finds his way back, kisses him eagerly.

They trip over each other’s feet, refuse to pull away as they stumble to Steve’s room. Steve falls backwards onto the bed and Bucky climbs on top of him and Steve notes the contrast of one hand so warm and soft if not a little calloused against his thigh, the other one too cold. Bucky’s gentle despite it and Steve’s reminded of the years before the serum when Bucky’s hands held him, took care of him.

The thought only makes Steve crave him more. They’re practically seamless with Bucky’s thighs on either side of Steve’s, stealing each other’s breaths. It feels so desperate, a little messy, and more than worth the wait. Steve can’t believe he went so long without this. The air in Bucky’s lungs fills Steve’s and vice versa and it’s wrong for the two of them to have gone so long without the kiss of the other, without each other’s breath filling their lungs when they’ve been the only thing keeping the other alive anyway.

“Steve,” Bucky breathes against Steve’s mouth.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“I love you.”

Bucky smiles, bites at Steve’s lip, kisses the corner of his mouth. 

“Think I figured that out.”

“I need you to hear it.”

Bucky nods, rests his forehead against Steve’s. He closes his eyes and sighs, shakes his head weakly.

“Tell me again, then, go on.”

“I love you. I’ve always loved you. From the damn beginning, it’s always been you, Bucky.”

Bucky sits up, but Steve anchors him in place. They’re both disheveled and their mouths are on the ‘you’ve done something bad’ side of pink and their hearts are beating furiously.

“How can you love someone like me, huh?”

“You’re always going to ask yourself that,” Steve tells him.

Steve reaches up to touch Bucky’s neck, drag his fingertips over his jaw. Bucky catches Steve’s hand in his metal ones and Steve interlocks their fingers. He flattens his palm against Bucky’s cheek so Bucky’s hand lays over his own, and Bucky leans into the warmth.

“Still fit,” Bucky whispers sadly. “All this time,” Bucky says again in disbelief, maybe more to himself than to Steve.

“I never knew how to tell you.”

“Neither did I.”

Steve smiles and pulls Bucky back to him. Their mouths meet gently at first before they turn into a storm, tidal waves knocking the breath from their chests and pushing them together too fast, too hard so that they grip each other like they’ll drown if they let go. 

“You deserve someone who’ll love you better than me,” Bucky says against Steve’s chest, somewhere in between a kiss and a breath.

“Then why are you still kissing on me?”

Bucky chuckles at that and looks up at Steve from under his lashes, flicks his head to move his hair away from his face. 

“Cause now that I’ve started, I don’t know how I’m ever gonna stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” Steve says excitedly. “You think someone’s gonna love me better than you can? C’mon, Bucky, you’re smarter than that.” 

“I hate to be selfish, but Christ, Steve,” Bucky says, trails off with a sigh. “I love you. Do you know that?”

“I do now.”

Bucky climbs off Steve a little and Steve sits up so they can connect again, won’t let Bucky go for anything.

“You believe me, right? Shit, I don’t want you to love me. I wish you loved someone worth that big ol’ heart of yours, but there’s a part of me that wants to keep you all to myself.”

“Good.”

“ _You’re_ good, Steve. Too good for me.”

“No,” Steve says over a broken breath. Bucky’s mouth is on him again, nipping at his neck, but Steve pulls at him so he can look at him. “You can’t keep beating yourself up, Bucky. Be selfish. God, I want you to be selfish, just let yourself have what you want.”

“This is so hard, Steve. I love you, I love you like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Show me, Buck,” Steve pleads. “You’re allowed to love a-and you’re allowed to be loved. You’re not a monster, you’re more than just the Winter Soldier,” Steve says, voice rushed, nervous, soft. “You’re my Bucky.”

Bucky’s breath comes out in something between a whine and a cry. The sound is barely audible, but Steve hears it clearly and it makes him ache down to his core. Bucky curses under his breath and nods, lets his nose bump against Steve’s with the motion. Steve nods, too, runs his hands over Bucky’s back, his thighs, wherever he can reach. Steve pulls Bucky closer and Bucky anchors himself to Steve’s lap, lets his arms wrap over Steve’s shoulders.

“Ok?”

Bucky hums and Steve kisses him, feels the gentle sound against his mouth. Bucky pulls away too quickly, leaves Steve with his mouth hanging open and his head tilted back while Bucky marks up his neck. Steve holds Bucky’s hips too tight, takes advantage of the break to catch his breath.

Bucky kisses Steve’s neck a little more gently, strokes his thumb over the blossoming red mark. “Still bruise like a peach, Stevie.”

Steve feels the nickname, the way Bucky touches him, in his heart, in his stomach, in between his legs. It sends goosebumps prickling over his skin, steals the breath out of his lungs. Steve combs his fingers through Bucky’s hair, lays his opposite hand against Bucky’s neck. He gives Bucky’s hair a gentle tug to tilt his head back, expose his neck a little more. Steve presses his mouth to the hollow of Bucky’s neck, kisses over his collarbones. 

He stops at Bucky’s left shoulder and his gaze flickers up. 

“I don’t mind,” Bucky says, voice equal parts soft and gravelly. “It’s you.”

Steve brushes his lips over the border of metal and skin and he can feel Bucky’s entire body decompress in his lap. His lips meet Bucky’s neck again and Bucky gets impatient and guides Steve with a hand on his cheek to find his mouth.

They kiss till their lips are puffy and their breaths are hard to catch. They kiss till they can’t anymore because yawns keep breaking them apart. Bucky keeps himself draped over Steve, rests his head against Steve’s shoulder and plays with the hair along the back of his neck. Steve just keeps his face buried in Bucky’s neck, keeps his hands pressed against Bucky’s back. 

“Are you asleep?”

Bucky shakes his head and Steve smiles to himself, presses a kiss to Bucky’s shoulder.

“Why don’t we get ready for bed?”

“Cause then we can’t do this anymore.”

Their lips meet again like clockwork. They kiss slowly, carefully, and their lips move as slow and tired as they feel. They pull apart reluctantly to get ready for bed and Bucky doesn’t cooperate right away, climbs on top of Steve instead of tucking himself beside him to go to sleep.

“Just one more,” Bucky promises. 

Bucky’s mouth pulls for Steve’s and Steve gives in, lets Bucky control him. Bucky rolls off him when they break apart as promised and Steve misses his kiss already. They roll onto their sides to face each other and Bucky reaches out to replace a loose strand of hair on Steve’s head.

“Remember that feeling when we were teenagers,” Bucky says softly, “on those summer days at Steeplechase Park or even just on the fire escape after a long day? We didn’t want it to end.”

Steve nods, listens intently.

“We thought that going to sleep would end it for good and then the next day we’d do it all over again. Make some nothing moment mean everything and wish it could last forever.”

“I remember.”

“That’s how I feel now,” Bucky confesses wistfully.

“I’m not going anywhere, Bucky,” Steve reminds him gently.

“I know that. I just don’t want tonight to end.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Steve says. “Not yet. Are you tired?”

“A little,” Bucky replies, a smile already tugging at his lips.

“Sit on the fire escape with me,” Steve tells him. “Watch the sunrise.”

Bucky sits up and pushes his hair back. “You couldn’t sleep through the night in the war,” Bucky remembers. He squints like he’s looking for something, trying to string the thoughts together coherently. “I felt you get up so I’d wake up and find you watching the sunrise.”

Steve hums, nods once, and leans into Bucky, kisses him gently. They climb out of bed and pull on sweatshirts, leave the hoods up just for security. They climb through the window one after the other and sit so their legs hang over the edge. Steve wraps his arm over Bucky’s shoulder and pulls him against his side and Bucky snakes his arm around Steve’s waist. 

“You sure you’re not too tired?”

Steve shrugs. “You’re not keeping me awake, Buck. Stop worrying.”

Bucky leans against Steve and they manage to snuggle up tighter. Steve dozes off with his cheek pressed to Bucky’s head through their hoods after a while. Bucky can tell Steve’s asleep from the way his weight settles, how his breathing relaxes.

Steve stirs not long after he’s fallen asleep and the timing is perfect. The sky’s brightened a little, but the blue is still deep. They can see the hints of yellow and purple far off and Bucky stands up when he’s gotten his fill of the view.

“Let’s go,” he urges Steve.

Steve nods, follows obediently. They pull off their hoodies and climb into bed, fit themselves together. Steve presses his chest to Bucky’s back, slots his knee in between Bucky’s, presses his lips to the back of Bucky’s head so soft that both of them hardly feel it.

Steve mumbles his good night, sighs so his breath fans out against Bucky’s neck. Bucky nestles closer, relaxes against Steve’s chest. He looks out the window to see the sun climbing higher and falls asleep thinking of Steve’s mouth all over him.

~

Steve wakes up before Bucky like always, but he doesn’t climb out of bed. He’s perfectly content surrounded by the warmth of his favorite blanket and Bucky, could stay like this all day, all of his life for that matter.

Steve doesn’t want to wake Bucky, but he can’t help himself when he starts kissing him. He presses his lips to Bucky’s skin so gently, nuzzles his nose against Bucky’s neck, his shoulders. Maybe Steve selfishly does want to wake Bucky just so he can kiss him some more. He forces himself to take it easy, but when he pulls away, Bucky moans into the pillow.

“Don’t stop.”

Steve smiles against Bucky’s neck. 

“Morning, Buck.”

“Shut up, Steve.”

Steve laughs softly, nips at Bucky’s shoulder, plants a kiss to the same spot. When Steve tries to get out of bed, Bucky doesn’t let him. He wraps his metal fingers around Steve’s wrist, tight enough to keep him in place, but loose enough so that it doesn’t hurt. 

“You have anything to do today?”

“Not particularly.”

“So where are you going?”

Steve smiles and falls back into bed, climbs on top of Bucky and lowers himself so their foreheads touch.

“You can’t keep me here all day.”

“I can and I will.”

Steve smiles, lets Bucky bring their lips together with his hands on either side of Steve’s face. They don’t let each other go for most of the day with few exceptions. The bed must be permanently dented with their imprints with the amount of time they spend kissing and conjuring up old memories and Steve smiles to himself when he thinks about it mid-kiss.

“What are you smiling at?”

“Just you.”

~

Sam’s over for dinner like he always is once a week. Steve’s trying to finish cooking, but Bucky keeps kissing on him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and whispering near his ear to distract him.

A knock on the door interrupts them and Bucky lets go reluctantly.

“Hey, Sam.”

“How’ve you been, Barnes?”

“Good,” Bucky says with a glance at Steve.

“You coming back next week?” Sam asks.

Bucky nods. “‘Course.”

Sam smiles and they join Steve in the kitchen again. Bucky bumps his hip against Steve’s and Steve wraps his arm over Bucky’s shoulder and it seems to sink in at the same time that Sam doesn’t know anything yet. 

Those affectionate touches are nothing new to him, but Sam still eyes them for a moment before he flops onto the couch with a drink in hand.

Bucky gives Steve’s bottom a gentle pat when Sam turns his head and Steve looks down to hide his smile, the blush that creeps up from his neck and colors his cheeks.

“You two look awfully cozy,” Sam remarks as he helps himself to seconds.

Bucky draws away from Steve then and Steve rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Nothing you haven’t seen,” Bucky replies after a moment.

Steve’s silent and so is Sam, but then he shrugs and Steve lets go of a deep breath and Bucky smiles victoriously. 

~

Bucky sits at the back of another meeting and listens intently to the stories people share. With his sunglasses on and his hat pulled low, Bucky clears his throat during a pause after Sam’s asked if anyone else has something to contribute.

“I uh. Sometimes I feel like I shouldn’t have made it,” Bucky says. He keeps his head down, keeps his voice level. “It eats away at me and I can deal with that, you know? I’ve dealt with worse so I can handle that. It’s when it affects someone else,” Bucky says, too aware of Sam’s eyes burning into him. “When my thoughts hurt someone else…”

“It’s good to consider how your thoughts and actions might affect another person, but it’s important to care for yourself, too. And to start, find little reasons in your days to tell yourself that you made it for a reason, that you’re here and that’s good.”

“It’s just hard to make yourself believe that.”

“Sure is. You have to work every day at it and that’s the only way, brother. Work. Remind yourself even when you feel like the opposite is swallowing you whole.”

~

Bucky stays after like usual to thank Sam. Bucky knew Sam wouldn’t let him get away with what he said, but he still throws his head back and lets out a sigh when Sam calls for him after he’s turned around.

“I have some time you know,” Sam starts. “So you can go ahead and tell me what’s up since I’m not asking.”

They sit in the meeting room and Bucky doesn’t say anything for a while. He opens his mouth to speak a couple of times before any sound actually comes out and then he launches into it. 

“All I’ve done is hurt people,” he tells Sam. “That’s all I’m good for. I’m a weapon.”

“That time in your life is over. I know how hard it is to come back from, but you have to make yourself realize that your reality now isn’t the same as it was. You’re a different person. This is a different life, Barnes.”

“So what? That makes what I’ve done ok?”

“Not what I said,” Sam replies. “It makes what you’ve done something you can learn from and move on from. You can’t get rid of those parts of you so easy, but you can make them a thing of the past.”

Bucky shakes his head, stares out the window at nothing in particular.

“You know, I go back and forth. Sometimes I think that everything that happened happened so I could get here,” Bucky admits. “And other times, I wish I was dead.”

“Everyone has a different way of getting to the point where the good days outweigh the bad. For now, just try to remember that you’ll reach that point one day even if the road there is a bumpy one.”

Bucky nods. Sam gives the back of Bucky’s shoulder a friendly pat and nods at him to get his attention again.

“What you said about affecting someone else-“

“You know who I meant,” Bucky clarifies.

“Obviously,” Sam rolls his eyes. “I was gonna ask what happened.”

“Said I wished I was dead and he got pissed.”

“I’m sure ‘pissed’ is an understatement.”

Bucky smiles. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

“He really cares about you,” Sam says. “A whole lot. Big jackass probably understands exactly where you’re coming from, just doesn’t want to hear you say things like that.”

Bucky isn’t sure what to say so he just nods, dips his head down.

“I’m assuming you guys are good now.”

Bucky admits, “It got a little heated, but you know. Fight and make up.”

Sam nods slowly and his eyes go from narrow to wide. At this angle he can see through Bucky’s shades and he’s got this look in his eye like he’s saying something without saying anything. 

“I’m going to head home,” Bucky says after sufficient silence. “Thanks, Sam. For everything.”

“Anytime. I’ll see you back next meeting.”

Bucky nods. “See ya, Sam.”

~

“Hey, Steve?”

Steve looks up from the couch at Bucky and slides over to make room. 

“Hm?”

“Have you told Sam anything? About us, I mean.”

“No, I haven’t. He figured out that I uh, felt, well feel something for you. More than just friendship.”

“How?”

“According to him it wasn’t exactly a secret.”

Bucky smiles, leans in to kiss the side of Steve’s neck. “Going around making it obvious?”

“I didn’t think so,” Steve shrugs.

“I think we can tell him,” Bucky says seriously. “Think he’s rooting for us, don’t you think so?”

“He is.”

“Sam’s good,” Bucky comments. “He reminds me of you. He’s good.”

Steve smiles, kisses the top of Bucky’s head through his hair. 

“What are we watching tonight?”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it if you haven’t seen it already,” Bucky says, taking charge of the remote.

“I gotta say, Bucky, I’ve been avoiding this one for the title alone.”

Bucky smirks, presses play anyway. 

“They don’t wake up after years on ice in the future, Steve, they get there in this kick ass car. Just watch.”

~

Steve and Bucky end up crashing on the couch after marathoning three movies back to back. Steve keeps a blanket folded on the end of the couch for nights like this upon Bucky’s suggestion “so nobody has to get up”. 

It’s always a tight squeeze, but neither of them mind. Steve forgets that Sam is coming over for breakfast tomorrow and is only reminded of the plans by Sam knocking on the door. 

Steve wakes up slowly after a few knocks and stretches, sighs because he’s not ready for another day just yet. 

“Hey, Sam. Sorry, forgot we agreed to breakfast this morning.”

“Just wake up?”

“Mhm.”

Steve stretches, loosens his whole body and rubs his neck, and Sam puts the pieces together. 

“Well. At least it’s a short walk to the door from there,” Sam says with a nod towards the couch where Bucky’s sound asleep.

Steve almost says something, but he changes his mind and snaps his mouth shut. He just shoves Sam instead, harder than he means to.

“Whoops.”

“Love’s changed you,” Sam jokes and Steve just shakes his head.

“Coffee?”

“Always.”

Steve gets breakfast started and Sam leans against the counter, looks back and forth between Steve and Bucky.

“So what’s going on with you two, huh?”

“Sounds like you’ve got your own ideas.”

“Well am I right? Is it safe to sit on the couch?”

“ _Sam_ ,” Steve scolds, unable to keep himself from smiling. “We just watched movies.”

“Sure, sure.”

Steve rolls his eyes and fixes a couple of plates of scrambled eggs with toast and per request, some bacon. Bucky wakes up just in time and waltzes over to the kitchen, eyes barely open, hair a wild mess.

“Good timing, Bucky, food’s ready.”

Bucky hums and grabs a plate. In his sleepy, just-woke-up haze he leans his chin on Steve’s shoulder and kisses Steve’s neck and Steve flushes red down to the tips of his fingers.

Sam blows out a low whistle and Bucky looks over with sleepy eyes.

“You can have a kiss, too, if you like.”

Sam and Steve both frown. 

“Not sure I’m ok with that,” Steve says.

“Oh and I am?”

Bucky smiles and grabs his plate, thanks Steve and bumps his shoulder against Sam’s when he passes. Sam gets real close to Steve and bumps his arm to get his attention.

“He seems happy,” Sam whispers.

“You think so?” Steve replies hopefully.

Sam nods. “It’s too early for your puppy dog eyes, Cap, so don’t give ‘em to me,” Sam warns. “But I’m happy for y’all.”

“Thanks,” he replies, keeping his eyes down.

He squeezes Sam’s shoulder, claps him on the back. Sam leaves in the early afternoon, has to make a couple of stops on the way home. Bucky stops him in the hall on his way out, calls out to him.

“I heard what you said to Steve in the kitchen. Just wanted to say thanks.”

“Some things you don’t have to say thanks for,” Sam says.

Bucky nods, smiles warmly at Sam before he goes back into the apartment.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Bucky says, bounding onto the couch and cuddling up without hesitation. “Just wanted to say bye.”

~

Steve can tell once Bucky wakes up from a nightmare one morning that the day might be a rough one.

Bucky sits out on the fire escape with his hood pulled up and his glove tucked under his sleeve. He skims his fingers over the words written on the page and his mind flashes back to the chair he’d be strapped to, the emptiness, the murders.

Bucky can’t help but wonder if this is all worth it, if he’s worth this. He’s taken Sam’s advice, reminds himself when the thoughts get especially bad and enduring that he should be alive, it’s good that he is. It’s hard to convince himself of that tonight and as he stares down at the Russian writing, he thinks it might be easier to hear them out loud, bring to the surface the beast that sleeps within him.

Steve watches from the window, catches a glimpse of the book in Bucky’s hand. Steve knocks on the glass and Bucky closes the notebook promptly.

“What’s that?”

“It’s nothing,” Bucky lies.

“Don’t lie to me, Bucky. You said you wouldn’t.”

Bucky shakes his head and doesn’t look at Steve, stares out at the street, the buildings, the world around him.

“I’m not having a great night, Steve.”

“I figured.”

“I feel like it would just be easier to be that mindless killer. Nothing to worry about, not having to know both sides of myself.”

Steve swallows hard, shakes his head. “You know that isn’t true.”

“It’s still hard to make myself believe it.”

“It’s gonna take time,” Steve says.

There’s a heavy pause and when Bucky speaks again, he smooths his hand over the star on the cover of the notebook. 

“My handlers used a set of words to activate the Winter Soldier. They’re written here,” Bucky taps in the center of the star. 

“Stop punishing yourself by looking at this,” Steve sighs. “Jesus, Buck.”

“I know how you feel about me Steve, but you have no idea how hard it is hearing one thing from somebody and trying to convince yourself that what they’re saying is true.”

“So you remind yourself of what you were,” Steve says sadly. “So you can keep believing in all those horrible things you think about yourself.”

Bucky drops his head and Steve turns away. He climbs back through the window and Bucky follows and Steve turns around quickly and snatches the book from Bucky’s hands.

“This isn’t you,” Steve almost yells, waving the book in the air. “This,” Steve says, with his hand over Bucky’s heart, “is you.”

“I’m trying to believe that, Steve.”

“You think you’d be taking a burden off my shoulders if you were still the Winter Soldier? If you just went back and never saw me again?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky groans. “That’s what part of me believes. The other part…” 

Bucky looks up and meets Steve’s eyes, makes the space between them a little smaller. 

“The other part just wants to stay with you.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You can push me away, you can have countless bad days, Buck, and I’ll be here through every single one.”

Steve can feel the weight of Bucky’s pain and it’s scares and amazes him how badly he wants to hold onto it himself, would let it break him if it meant Bucky wouldn’t have to bear it any longer. 

~

Bucky’s coming off a string of bad days. There’s been a build up of tension and a lack of affection and Steve’s just waiting it out, checking up on Bucky every so often.

Steve’s in the bathroom freshening up when Bucky knocks on the door. He glances over at Bucky as he pushes the door open, nods at him to come in. 

“How are you feeling today?”

“Better,” Bucky says. “Wears me out though.”

“Feel free to sleep all day. I have to run out, but-“

“Can you stay in today?”

Steve looks up from the sink and Bucky steps further in. Steve turns so his back is to the mirror, braces himself against the sink with his arms slightly behind him. 

“It’s been a long few days and I know you’ve been here, but I’ve been distracted and I- I miss you.”

Steve watches Bucky come closer, close the wide gap between them and Steve kisses Bucky’s head. 

“Sure, Bucky, I’ll stay.”

Steve lets go of the sink to wrap his arms around Bucky’s bare waist, leans forward so their foreheads touch.

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

“What are you apologizing for?”

“For… all of this.”

Steve knows Bucky feels guilty, like he’s a burden. He knows Bucky hates himself for what he’s done, who he’s been, who he is even now. Steve knows Bucky feels like he’s just a shell of who he was, broken pieces of the old James Barnes pulled haphazardly together. 

“I know you get angry with yourself, Bucky, with everything. That’s ok, I get it.”

“I just hate putting this on you. Don’t you get sick of this, Steve?”

“I’m not letting you go, Bucky. You’re not a burden. You’re going to have bad days, I told you I’m not going to let you go through ‘em alone.”

“I know you’re not.”

Bucky rests his arm over Steve’s shoulders and Steve pulls Bucky tight against him. Bucky’s breath fans over Steve’s lips and Steve lets their mouths touch so gently that the both of them hardly feel it.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Bucky moves his hands from Steve’s shoulders, cups his cheeks instead. Steve grabs at Bucky’s neck, doesn’t move otherwise. Just needs to know Bucky’s there, feel his skin, his pulse beneath his fingers.

“One of the hardest parts is loving you, Steve.”

“Bucky-“

“Part of me says I should let you go and the other part. I’d die before I let you go.”

“I’m not giving you the choice,” Steve breathes. “I’m not meant to love anyone else the way I love you, Buck.”

“Ok.”

Bucky nods and his nose brushes against Steve’s. Their lips meet and it feels like the first time, like a craving’s been satisfied. Bucky opens his mouth for Steve, pushes his hips against Steve’s so that his back hits the sink. Bucky’s hands fall down to Steve’s sides and he grips him tight, lifts him onto the countertop.

Steve smiles against Bucky’s mouth and they have to separate for a few agonizing seconds for Bucky to lift Steve’s shirt over his head. 

Bucky runs his hand over Steve’s chest, down his stomach, rests it against his hip. His left hand rests on Steve’s thigh and he rubs his thumb over Steve’s pants. Steve cradles Bucky’s neck in his hands and he tilts Bucky’s chin up, leans down to press their lips together. Steve slides off the counter after a few moments, pulls Bucky with him towards the shower.

“Steve.”

He turns around when Bucky calls for him after he’s turned the water on. Bucky’s fingers dance over the band of Steve’s sweatpants and he hooks his index into the fabric, gives them a pull. Steve’s breath comes out jagged and his heart pounds. Bucky can sense Steve’s nervousness and he smiles against Steve’s neck, kisses him sweetly.

“Easy,” he says soothingly.

Steve nods, pulls at Bucky impatiently. They get undressed and Bucky licks his lips when he looks at Steve, a hungry, desperate look in his eyes. They stumble into the shower together, rushed, bodies moving too hard and too quickly.

Bucky’s arm cracks the tile and he looks at the fractures in the wall and then at Steve. Steve drops his head to Bucky’s shoulder and his laughter comes out a little breathy. When Steve lifts his head, his smile crinkles the corners of his eyes and Bucky starts laughing, too.

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

Steve grabs at Bucky’s face, kisses him desperately, lingers for a moment. When they break apart, Steve hardly has a second to catch his breath before Bucky’s pulling him back, flipping them around so Steve’s against the wall instead. Bucky pushes his hips against Steve’s, slots their thighs together. 

Steve combs his fingers through Bucky’s hair, rubs down his back. Bucky drops his head to the crook of Steve’s neck and Steve’s fingers dig into Bucky’s hips when he feels Bucky’s teeth drag over his skin.

Bucky sucks on Steve’s neck till the resulting marks meets his standards.

“You heal too fast,” Bucky explains. “Making me work harder.”

Steve smiles and Bucky kisses it away. Steve’s hard, Bucky can feel him against his thigh the same way Steve can feel Bucky. Steve kisses all the skin he can reach- Bucky’s jaw, his neck, his shoulder, licks back into Bucky’s mouth when it’s been too long for the both of them. They flip again and Bucky hooks his leg around Steve’s, forces him a little closer.

Steve kisses down Bucky’s neck again, mouths at his flesh. He drags his mouth over Bucky’s chest, parts and closes his lips over drops of water that roll down Bucky’s skin. Bucky watches intently as Steve slowly makes his way down till his knees hit the shower floor.

Bucky curses under his breath when Steve’s hands grab roughly at his hips and pull forward. Steve kisses along Bucky’s waistline, lets his tongue dip into the V that cuts into Bucky’s body. Steve can feel how tense Bucky’s body is beneath his fingers, but he can’t bring himself to stop kissing him. Steve plants kisses on Bucky’s thighs, below his navel, his wrist when Bucky reaches out to card through Steve’s wet hair.

“Is this ok? I’ve never done this before so,” Steve admits nervously.

Steve looks up at Bucky through wet lashes, hair a mess so a few tendrils hang over his forehead. He licks a stray droplet off his lips and Bucky’s eyes roll up as he curses under his breath.

“Yeah, Steve, it’s ok. Of course it’s ok,” Bucky says, voice all gravelly and wet. “What are you waiting for?”

Steve smiles when he kisses Bucky’s inner thigh again, sucks a little lovebite into his skin.

“Steve,” Bucky pleads.

Steve gives Bucky another glance, gives in to the neediness that’s so clear in Bucky’s voice. Steve tries to get passed his nerves, goes by Bucky’s sharply inhaled breaths and twitching fingers to let him know he’s doing ok.

Bucky watches through low lids as Steve takes him in his mouth carefully and painfully slow. Steve flattens his tongue and hollows his cheeks when he bobs his head and when he looks up at Bucky, his mouth hangs open and his breath comes out broken. Steve’s hands travel from Bucky’s thighs to his hips and he pulls Bucky forward so he hits Steve’s throat and Bucky weakens for Steve.

Steve finds a rhythm, uses his hand a little. Bucky’s fingers brush against Steve’s jaw and he flattens his palm against the back of Steve’s head. Bucky moans weakly, Steve’s name leaving his lips breathlessly.

Steve becomes more eager, a little sloppier. Bucky thrusts his hips gently and Steve lets out this wet little sound from his throat. Bucky hears it over the water, curses again, and comes apart with Steve’s name on his mouth and Steve’s fingers curled into his hip and thigh.

Steve lets Bucky come in his mouth, licks the corner of his lip before he moves away from between Bucky’s thighs. Bucky stands with his head tilted back against the wall, his lips parted.

Steve presses his mouth to Bucky’s and Bucky kisses back lazily. Steve dips his head to Bucky’s neck and Bucky does the same afterward, sucks another mark into Steve’s skin just beside the first one. 

They separate to shower and even then they still touch somehow. Bucky’s fingers linger near Steve’s or Bucky’s chest presses to Steve’s back. Bucky kisses Steve’s shoulder, his neck some more as Steve rinses off and Steve bends his neck back, tilts a little to the side to grant Bucky access.

“I love you,” Bucky says against Steve’s skin. 

Steve feels the words more than he hears them, feels Bucky’s mouth move against his neck.

“It’s so selfish, Steve,” Bucky says sadly.

Steve turns around, hushes Bucky with a warm kiss. He helps Bucky lather his hair, combs conditioner through it with his fingers. Bucky’s so relaxed under Steve’s touch, lets his eyes flutter closed when Steve massages his scalp.

They’re both reluctant to climb out of the shower and they kiss some more instead. They chase water droplets down each other’s skin, lick them off one another’s lips. Steve shuts the water off with his arm around Bucky and they can barely keep themselves off each other. 

Bucky pulls on sweatpants and Steve eyes him in the mirror, cocks his eyebrow.

“Forgot your underwear.”

“Didn’t forget,” Bucky corrects, throws Steve a pair of sweats.

They hang too low and Bucky doesn’t even try not to stare.

“Come here,” Bucky commands later and Steve straddles him on the couch.

They’d gotten chilly at some point in the day and the shirts they used to cover up litter the floor just hours later. They forget about the mess they leave in the living room and keep each other’s hands and mouths busy in bed deep into the night.

Making up for lost time and all that.

~

Steve remembers this time around that Sam’s coming over for breakfast after his run. He sets an alarm, puts a t-shirt on, kisses Bucky’s head before he untangles himself from the sheets.

He doesn’t remember that there are shirts on the floor. He doesn’t remember that this t-shirt doesn’t quite cover the spots on his neck.

Steve answers the door with coffee already poured for Sam and he follows Sam’s stare when he walks inside.

“Oh my god,” Steve mutters, horrified and amused by the mess near the couch.

“Steve Rogers,” Sam boasts. “My boy.”

Steve shakes his head, scoops the shirts off the floor and tosses them into his room. When he comes back, Sam’s laughing to himself, but the smile fades when he looks at Steve’s neck.

“You had yourself a busy day yesterday, huh?”

Steve claps his hand over his neck, rubs uncomfortably.

“What are you guys, seventeen? Jesus, Cap.”

Steve just laughs it off, takes a sip of coffee. He doesn’t mind the teasing. For him it’s just a reminder that he’s all Bucky’s and Bucky is all his.

~

Steve and Bucky are standing in the kitchen taking advantage of the empty counter space to lean against it and kiss too much. Bucky draws away, links his fingers with Steve’s.

“What are you doing today, Steve?”

“Nothing but this,” Steve says, presses a kiss to the corner of Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky smiles, nudges his nose against Steve’s.

“I’ve gotta be somewhere a little later.”

“Where?”

“I’ll tell you when we get there if you care to join me.”

Steve agrees and finds himself in a familiar place. As soon as he realizes, he sighs, but follows Bucky inside.

“Why’d you bring me here, Buck?”

“Sam’s been real helpful, Steve. I don’t talk much, but knowing that some people feel like I do even if it’s for very different reasons is. It’s a relief.”

Steve doesn’t say anything and Bucky looks around before he leans in and takes his hat and glasses off for a moment to press his forehead against Steve’s. 

“You’re too proud to admit you’ve got the same problems as the rest of us, too busy taking care of everyone else.”

Steve splays his fingers over Bucky’s cheek briefly, wants to lean in to kiss him, but thinks better of it. Sam walks in just as they separate and Steve notices before Bucky does.

“I think you’re ready, Steve, you’re just-”

“A stubborn jackass?”

Bucky’s replaced his covers by the time his eyes land on Sam. He rolls his eyes, but smiles a little anyway. 

“I think it could be good for you. S’why I brought you today,” Bucky says gently, and then to Sam, “Brought a guest.”

“Took your boy to get you here,” Sam says shamefully, but the smile behind his eyes gives him away. “At least you came.”

Bucky sits at the back like usual and Steve just a row in front of him, slightly off to the side so he can see Bucky if he turns a little.

Steve drums his fingers nervously on his thigh as he listens to the thoughts people share. Steve’s admired Sam since the day they met, but the admiration only grows when he sees how Sam runs the meetings, so careful, so genuine.

“Nightmares are tough,” Sam says with a fleeting glance at Bucky that Steve catches. “They happen less often as you progress. When you find peace consciously, you’ll find it subconsciously, too. Just takes time like everything else.”

Steve nods and drops his hand behind the seat. Just seconds pass before he feels Bucky’s gloved hand in his palm, their fingers locking together one by one, releasing only after they’ve both squeezed the other.

~

Steve and Bucky sit on the couch later that night eating in front of the television. Bucky searches the channels for something interesting to watch while Steve washes the dishes and puts away some leftover food.

Bucky calls for Steve and his voice sounds off. Steve stands behind the couch, grips the back of it and leans forward so his chin is just above Bucky’s head. 

“What it is, Buck?”

There’s a blurry picture on the screen of Steve and Bucky walking side by side not far from the hall where Sam holds the meetings.

“ _Rogers was seen leaving a Veteran’s Association meeting run by his comrade, Sam Wilson, with who we have been informed is the Winter Soldier_.”

Bucky reaches over and lowers the volume so the news is just a dull buzz, background noise.

Steve lets his head droop and Bucky throws his back, rubs his hand over his face. Steve moves so he’s directly behind Bucky and he drapes his arms over Bucky’s shoulders, rests his head atop Bucky’s when Bucky reaches up and grabs Steve’s hand.

They’ve fought their ways back to each other time and time again. Fear settles in Bucky’s belly and that familiar need to protect settles in Steve’s and Steve holds their closed fists up to his mouth, kisses Bucky’s hand. They’ll find a way to come out of this together. They always have, always do. You know how it goes.

Till the end of the line.


End file.
